


Christmas In the Air

by Kellyscams



Series: Kells' Fic Fest [30]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys In Love, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Confessions, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Hugs, Love, M/M, Marriage, Mention of past trauma, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: It's Christmas morning. Dawn, really. Sam would like to sleep a little longer, but his husband, Bucky, is a little excited and won't let him. Strange. Sam's usually the one draggingBuckyout of bed.





	Christmas In the Air

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: sam and bucky's first christmas together as a married couple please?

“Sammy?” 

Sam ignores this and rolls over. He must be imagining things anyway. No way can his husband be awake this early. Sam usually has to _drag_ Bucky’s ass out of bed just so he can get ready for work and not be late. 

Just a few seconds later, though, someone is tapping him on the shoulder with a metal finger. Over and over and over and over again. So unless someone has broken into their tiny, one bedroom apartment and is trying to wake him up in the most irritatingly way possible, Bucky really is up already. And, for some reason, trying to get Sam to join him. Even though the sun is _barely_ even up yet. 

“What?” Sam grunts. “What is it?”

“Are you awake?” 

Sam scoffs. “I don’t _want_ to be, but someone won’t _shut up_.” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Bucky’s quiet for about two seconds. “But, Sammy…”

Grunting, Sam rolls onto his back at stares at his ceiling. Why he had to go fall in love with his friend’s best friend is beyond him. Sam knows how great Steve is. He’s one of the best persons he’s ever known. He also knows how nutty Steve gets. Whether it’s him being a god damn troll over whatever -- the guy can seriously pull off the pranks of the year -- or he’s being so passionate about something that he’s gonna knock the lights out of some stranger for being an asshole. 

So obviously his best friend had to be _something_ like him. Bucky Barnes. The most irritatingly adorable guy in the world. Which is now why he goes by the name Bucky Barnes-Wilson and why Sam goes by Sam Wilson-Barnes. 

Really, Sam fell in love with Bucky so fast it almost hurt. Like hitting the ground. Only it couldn’t hurt because it felt more like flying. After losing Riley to a flight accident flying with him in the Air Force, Sam never thought he was gonna fly again. Turned out, he’d been wrong. He found a new pair of wings. Not a replacement. No one could ever -- or would ever -- replace Riley. But it was possible to be mended. To smile again. To laugh again. To love and be loved again. His heart unfurled and with it, the room to love someone in a brand new, wonderful way. 

But, right now, that adorable man who’s helped him believe in love after loss, is trying to get his attention at the butt crack of dawn on his day off. 

“What the _hell_ , Bucky?” he grumbles. “Why are you awake?”

Right away, Sam realizes his mistake. He’s given Bucky a reason and Bucky will take it any way he can. 

“The _sky_ is awake!” he recites the lines from _Frozen_. “So _I’m_ awake! So we have to _play_!” 

Arm tossed over his eyes -- Sam does this just to keep himself from pushing his husband out of bed -- he shakes his head. He also has to keep himself from laughing. Sam can try to tell himself he hates Bucky all he wants, but it just isn’t true. From the day he met him two years ago right up to this very odd morning, Sam’s heart is so full of love for the guy he could just fly to the moon and back again. 

Still, when he turns playfully scornful eyes on him, Bucky folds his lips in and shrinks slightly into his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers. “I love you?” 

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” Sam mumbles. “I love you, too. Why’re you awake?” 

“It’s Christmas!” Bucky practically bounces. “Can we get up now? Can we, can we, can we?” 

“What?” Sam chuckles. “Now? No. I’m tired.”

“But… But--”

Sam grabs the corner of the blanket and goes to roll back over only Bucky doesn’t exactly let him. He keeps him where he is and is now wearing a big, doe-eyed looked. Lips pushed out and quivering. He’s even good enough to get his eyes to water. 

“Ugh.” Sam covers Bucky’s face with his whole hand. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

Bucky whines and scoots closer. Puts an arm around Sam’s waist and his lips right by Sam’s ear. He starts kissing. Soft kisses that make Sam shiver with excitement. He smiles. 

“C’mon, Sam. It’s our first Christmas together.”

“It’s our _third_ Christmas together.” 

He’s being a Scrooge or a Grinch or some other literary pain in the ass about the holidays character, but after the stink he made about rolling over again, he can’t show he’s weakening now. 

“Not _married_ ,” Bucky says. “It’s our first _married_ Christmas and you’re being a jerk.” 

Sam gasps, mocking insult. “How dare you. _You’re_ the one who _never_ gets up when he’s supposed to and I’m just supposed to get up at the drop of a hat on the one day you’re up early?” 

“I… um.” Ha. That one tricked him up. Good thing Sam’s still facing away from him otherwise Bucky would see the proud grin on his face right now. “This is _different_.” 

“Because it’s Christmas?”

“Mhm.” 

“The sun just came up,” Sam answers. “I’m not ready to get up yet.” 

“But… _presents_.” 

Snickering, Sam shakes his head and pulls Bucky’s hand around him more so he can bring it up to his lips and kiss his knuckles. 

“Who said there’re presents out there for you?” 

“ _What_?!” 

Bucky’s reaction -- his squeaky outrage and disbelief -- is just one of the reasons Sam loves him so much. Obviously, Bucky knows damn well he has presents for him, but just the fact that he’ll play along makes him so much fun to tease and fool around with. 

“You weren’t exatly a good boy this year,” Sam teases. “Why should you get anything but coal?”

“But… but… _why_?” Bucky whimpers, trying to get Sam to turn back around. “What did I _do_?”

“Always forcing me to get you outta bed,” Sam says. “Drinkin’ all the coffee. Forgetting to buy milk--”

“That was one time!” 

“--I dunno. Doesn’t sound like you should get anything more than coal to me.”

For a moment, Bucky is quiet. Sulking, probably. If Sam turned and looked over his shoulder, he’d probably find quite the expression on his husband’s face. Eyebrows pulled in. Lips pursed. Eyes narrowed. He’d probably harrumph if Sam said something right now, too. God, Sam loves him. 

“I can… I can be good,” Bucky grumbles. “I’ve _been_ good.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sam chuckles and flips onto his other side. “You’ve been good, huh? How’ve you been good?”

Weepy eyes drift up to meet his. Whatever sulky look Bucky may’ve had before is swapped for a pouty one now. Lip turned down. Eyes wide. Brow up. 

“I make dinner,” he offers.

“You’re good at ordering takeout, yes.” 

“No! What about my chicken cordon bleu? And my turkey soup? And… and my pasta primavera! You said you loved it!”

Sam bursts out laughing. “You’re right, my love. I did love your pasta primavera.” 

“Yeah! See! Wait… what?” Bucky shakes his head. “I mean… yeah. Exactly. And I take out the trash! And put the laundry away!” 

“Mm.” Sam kisses the tip of Bucky’s nose. “I guess _maybe_ there might be a present or two out there for you then.” 

A smile turns up on Bucky’s lips. “Does that mean we can get out of bed now?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that.” 

“Oh come on!” Bucky exclaims. “I’ll give you a blow job?”

Oh? Well, things just took a turn for the interesting. Sam was just another request away from agreeing, but if Bucky’s about to start offering bribes, Sam’s not going to stop him. 

“Just a blow job?” 

He shakes his head. “Not just any blow job. One of my long, super slow blow jobs.” 

“Hm. What else you got?”

“Uh…” Bucky’s lips twist in thought. “What else do you want?”

“How about…” Sam sits up now and leans over Bucky. Kisses his lips and then his nose and then both his eyes. “One of those awesome blow jobs _and_ a massage.” 

“This is extortion.” 

Sam smirks and drops onto Bucky’s chest. He knows it doesn’t really hurt even though Bucky grunts dramatically and then wraps his arms around him. 

“Do you wanna get up or not?” Sam asks. “Cause if not, we can always go back to sleep.” 

“I do, I _do_!”

“Okay, then. It’s _just_ six in the morning,” Sam points out. “If you want to get up before ten o’clock on my day off, Christmas or not, those’re my terms. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.” 

First getting a kiss to the top of his head, Sam nestles against Bucky when his arms tighten around him more. 

“Okay, fine,” he relents. “I agree. One of my blowjobs and one massage.”

Kissing Bucky’s chest -- quite a few times because once he gets a taste, Sam wants more and more of his skin -- Sam finally slips away and rolls out of bed. He stands and stretches, rolling his toes in the soft carpet while Bucky lays there watching him. 

“Well?” Sam asks as he turns to head for the bathroom. “Are you gonna get up too or are you just gonna check out my ass?” 

“It’s a hot ass!” Bucky shouts just when Sam closes the bathroom door. 

Sam chuckles as he does what he needs to do in there. Use the toilet. Wash the sleep away from his face. Run his toothbrush across his teeth. When he opens the door, he’s a little surprised to find Bucky propped on the doorframe right on the other side. 

“Geez,” he gasps. “You scared me.” 

“Sorry.” Bucky smiles and fits a hand to the side of Sam’s face. He leans for a deep, sensual kiss. One that leaves Sam both floating and right at the edge of desperate for more. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.” 

Still a little dazed from that unexpected kiss, Sam just stands there staring at him, his lips tingling and head spinning. He blinks. Knows that Bucky’s said something but can’t quite put his finger on what. 

“Hm?” 

Bucky chuckles. “I said, Merry Christmas.”

“Oh!” The fog finally starts to clear and Sam laughs now, too. “Merry Christmas, baby.” He pulls Bucky closer by the strings of his sweats. Fluffy and warm and snowflake-themed. “Wanna go see what Santa left?” 

Face lighting up, Bucky presses their brows together and nods. “Yes. Yes, _please_.” 

“C’mon, Bucky,” Sam chuckles. “Let’s go.” 

They got their tree at a discount store. It’s fake and small and just fits into the corner of their little living room. _Any smaller_ , their friend Tony said, _And it’d be Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree_. Which was just fine with Bucky who said he’d take that tree and love it like any other. Just another reason to love the guy. 

But their tree, which just comes up to about Sam’s waist is covered in colorful, twinkling lights and little ornaments all hand-picked by the both of them -- and one each from their childhood -- and a very special personalized one to mark this as their first Christmas as a married couple. It’s heart-shaped and has one of their wedding photos as its template. The whole thing is topped off with an angel. 

Now, there’s a couple of presents all nestled underneath. They’re wrapped up all nice and neat. Some of them have bows and ribbons. Some of them are bags lined with tissue paper. Sam can tell on sight which gifts he wrapped and which Bucky did. While his mother taught him how to do it when he was younger, Bucky never had the patience to line things up right and make the proper cuts and folds. Half of the presents are wrapped nice and neat. The other half and… well, not a nice and neat. Sam holds in a soft chuckle. 

“Shut up,” Bucky says. “I did the best I could.” 

“They look perfect.” 

“ _You_ look perfect.” 

Bucky smirks when Sam flushes and ducks his head down. He sits on the floor next to the gifts and holds his hand up for Sam to come join him. Sam laces their fingers together -- loves it when they’re touching in some way, any way, even the smallest touch -- and sits on the floor with Bucky. Bucky hands a box over. 

“Open this one first.”

The way he says that catches Sam a little off guard. He’s not prepared for the sentiment. Less excitement and something more… tender. There’s a softness in his eyes. A vulnerability that Sam didn’t expect to see, least of all on Christmas morning, especially after all that silly fun they just had. 

“Is… is everything okay, babe?” Sam asks. Presses his hand to Bucky’s cheek. “Are you okay?” 

Bucky nods. “Mhm.” 

Going on faith and trust that Bucky’s not lying, Sam tears into the corner of the package that Bucky’s handed over. What he finds under the wrapping is, well, really, he’s not sure. It’s a marble notebook -- a few of them -- that much he knows. But they’re old and they’re used. The pages are frayed and the covers are worn. There’s doodling all over the fronts.

Thumbing through the one on top, Sam catches Bucky’s handwriting inside. He pauses and glances up at him. There’s a light blush on Bucky’s cheeks. Something of a nervous grin on his lips, like he’s unsure if his gift is ridiculous or just plain old stupid. It’s not. Of course, it’s not. The only problem is, Sam’s not quite sure he understands it and he knows this is something important. 

“Bucky, I…” 

“Here.” Bucky flips the book open to a page that’s been marked off already. He taps the corner where the date’s been written. Thirteen years ago. “Read this one.” 

Sam nods and does just that. It only takes the first sentence for him to realize what it is that he’s reading about. 

_Steve came to visit today. Fuck, it was so good to see him. I missed him so, so much. He had a whole bunch of cards from everyone at school. He’s still Steve of couse so the cards that were just from people who aren’t even friends with me he flung in the garbage. He didn’t press me to talk either. He just caught me up on everything and asked if i wanted to play chess and we played together._

_It’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t fucking pressure me to talk. I dont’ want to talk. I mean, i just… idk, i can’t do it. I don’t know why. I know my voice is inside of me. But it’s just like it’s hiding or something._

_And I don’t mind showing Steve my arm. He even touches the spot where it’s connected. I don’t think anyone else will ever want to do that. It’s so fucking ugly. The arm feels too heavy. Tony says his dad is working on a new model specifically for me. Something about a trial run. But i’m scared._

That’s all that’s written on this particular page and Sam knows that this was written when Bucky had spent nearly a year in rehab after being in a hit-and-run accident. The accident almost killed Bucky and did cost him his arm. The trauma rendered him mute while he worked through a long, intense period of therapy. He’s still on medications for anxiety and depression and goes to therapy once a week. If there’s one thing Sam knows about his husband, it’s that he works incredibly hard at keeping up with his self-care. 

“Bucky,” Sam whispers. “This is…”

“They’re my journals,” he explains, though there really isn’t any need. Unless the explanation is more for Bucky’s sake than Sam’s. “They were part of my therapy in the center.” He taps a finger over the top of the page Sam’s just read. “I’ve only ever let Steve read them.” 

“Oh.” Sam shakes his head and closes the book in his lap. “Oh, Bucky, I… I’m honored, but I… You don’t have to show me these just because you showed Steve. I know how special Steve is to you. He’s your soul mate. I’d never try to come between you two.” 

Eyes filling with tears -- warm tears, though, they must be since there’s a warm smile on his face -- Bucky shakes his head and takes hold of Sam’s hands. 

“No, no. It’s not that. I just want you to know all of me. And, yeah, you’re right,” he says. Music to Sam’s ears, but he’ll save the jokes for later. “Steve is my soul mate. We have a relationship that’s just…”

He trails off, likely trying to put a word to the relationship he has with Steve. Sam can understand why that’s hard. He’s never seen a friendship like Bucky and Steve’s. He’s not kidding -- or even insulted -- when he says they’re soul mates. They’re beautiful together. Completely platonic and always have been, but they’d do anything for each other. Steve had been there every step of Bucky’s recovery and Bucky took care of everything when Steve’s mother passed. Steve’s the guy Bucky would call to bury the body and Steve would come so that Sam wouldn’t be implicated. Steve wouldn’t call Bucky to bury the body anymore because of his marriage to Sam. 

“Unique,” Sam offers. “Special.”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. “He’s my… _person_. But you…” He takes a second to compose himself. “There are places in my heart that’re just Steve’s. That’s true. But the _rest_ of my heart? It _belongs_ to _you_ , Sam. And I want you to see all of it. Even when it was cracked open and bleeding all over everything, which is a totally gross metaphor, but I hope you know what mean.” 

“Bucky.” Sam hums softly and gently pulls Bucky into his arms. “Baby, I love you more and more every day. And I will treat your heart with all the tenderness in the world.” 

Bucky breathes out softly and nuzzles against him. 

“I know you will,” he whispers. “I love you, Sammy.”

“I love you, too, Bucky. Thank you for loving me.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

Sam hugs him closer and kisses the top of his head. So, maybe he has to fight with Bucky most morning just to get him out of bed. If this is the reward for having Bucky wake him up this early on Christmas morning, then Sam’ll do it with him for all the days of their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to check me out on tumblr for more marvel fun at [thebestpersonherelovesbucky](http://thebestpersonherelovesbucky.tumblr.com/)


End file.
